How to start this one ?
I could pretend I just found my paper journal back.
At the bottom of my bag or something.
Or maybe I just stepped into that room again.
You know ? That space you enter when you want to listen to what lies within.
And try to make something new out of it, out there, to share.
Like a butterfly that, for a day or a moment, want to pretend being a caterpillar again.
Now that metaphor might have to be toned town a tad.
I'm still crawling through this path, strictly speaking.
Flying seems like an attainable goal by now,
But if anything it's still on the other side of this mountain.
There's our context : I'm only over about half way through.
The essence of this note spawned from the legacy that started this story telling.
Before I understood that this path, unlike the journey that leaded to it, might come between my mind room and paper journal and me.
Which leaded to the hiatus I'm breaking as you read these lines. Months later.
In this respect this note is 2 or more melted into 1.
Or fragments found on the floor added to a new mix.
It could be a book full of pages painting wondrous illustrated fables.
Really it could have. Who's gonna stop me, right now ? I've got my paper journal's blank pages right here, under my hand !
But alas, from my personal experience, time isn't kind to what's left untold in the big wooden chest of the mind room.
Like, at all.
I do remember I planned on telling a story.
Or rather resuming a narrative.
I was following a fool walking through a chaotic track aiming to walk over a gigantic mountain.
Imagine a peculiar yet currently rather common way to steal that picture,
Like a camera floating right by the character, a ghost camera if you will.
Ghost ! That's right. That's the title of a chapter right there.
Seems like the main body of this story was left untold.
What can expectations be after such a generous introduction ?
But then again, time, though silent, remains a quintessential factor.
Throughout this fast forward in the story's timeline, 3 faces retain the attention.
No no, my mind room didn't get trashed and yes my pen's still controlled by my hand, not weird superstitions.
There's the fairy, but the other 2 ain't ghosts. They're ghosts now, but let's leave it at that.
Actually the fairy opens up the topic, so memory's an issue.
It does feel like everything's been said on the 1.
Whatever could be added underneath seems just too faded on my notes.
Is that a coincidence ?
It could seem like this whole situation has been foreseen and attempted to be avoided.
A great picture could tell a whole deal more ... Alas a drawing wasn't deemed a decent request.
Then comes the 2nd figure.
This one's obscure, too, but for different reasons.
It starts off as a rather amusing example of a type of dance that was, until now, mostly only observed.
By now it has all turned out as a distraction only.
It even failed to have long-lasting effects on what matters to this day.
And it's just as well so. Because it gave birth to last month's sorrows.
Much more than this, when I come to think of it :
-It spawned a plan.
One that smells good of novelty, originality, energy, excitement.
-Then, it spawned a hope.
A simple one, a brand new direction that seemed to want to stay.
-Then, it spawned an argument.
An absurd one. The sudden realization that truth always catches up, eventually.
-Then, it spawned a twist.
Because, I mean, you know, still. Might as well. Got nothing to lose anyways, right ?
-And finally, it spawned a wonder launch.
Like stepping into a place that has different values of random while being in luck.
And that brings us to figure 3.
This one feels tricky to flesh out.
Am I still in front of a blank sheet or something ?
Christ, what am I, asking my pen to climb down a steep hill !?
It feels now as if it started off a harmless misunderstanding.
Then humans exchanged.
And finally a password was slipped. The trick was successful.
Then the actually unrelated happiness came down and enveloped the evening.
An occurring worthy enough to be found on a list of things to achieve before one's existence isn't anymore.
Which ended on a simple warm note.
Then songs were written, and some sort of truth was understood.
It was a beautiful invitation, pretensions aside.
It bridged a gap and in an instant, the acrobat was caught in mid-air.
Should I really put myself in this frame of mind in the current context ?
The room where my desk is also happens to be where the most succulent of feasts can rot and decompose over time.
Now the pain felt over the last mile travelled dominates breathtaking views.
Soft and grassy hills. Some separated by a valley, some spring of none less than the river of life.
Another occurring that lead to long-awaited gazing sessions.
Such power. A beauty felt and uneasy to share because addictive.
But the price to pay came suddenly and unannounced.
In a crazy context, too, like karma balances chance ? Then what if it's uncalled for ?
It ended as abruptly as this paragraph does.
Context can be a good transition, thou.
For there's more than names to write at the back of a pad in this episode.
There's a bunch of mishaps that happened on this path that I was unprepared for.
Instead of the roughly-smooth travelling I've been used to recently,
It turns out this journey had some real nasty bumps. I counted 3 undeniably bad ones.
And really, I don't mean the good kind.
A whole lot of other aspects I barely even imagined came raining down too.
I'm standing here with most of my expectations completely soaked.
It seems the original decisions that spawned the courage to start, go and do it is all that matters today.
Realizations hit me too. Sooner or later, I'm bound to be a traveller no matter what.
As we all are. Because when facts are faced, it appears that this simply is the drill.
Else why spend years learning how to read a map ? So we can find the market ?
I'm starting to take this whole trip as a preparation.
While taking the long way around, I caught a glimpse of what's ahead of me in the long term.
And this is simply quite priceless. I dare hope it will even lead me to more realistic predictions next time.
Times vary and as shown in this transcription, so do surprises.
But as I write these lines, I can say that I appreciate this sample I've been consuming for miles now.
It has been far from perfect. But chances are my main goal will be reached.
I will get on the other side of this mountain. I know it now, I can do it.
I'll go down to summon my old ghost in the coming weeks to get the strength not to doubt that until I get there.
And soon, very soon, we'll know what's on the other side ... patience ...